The Scorpion
by MistyMae
Summary: Henrik Hanssen is back and is preparing to work with Serena Campbell, but is all well that ends well?
1. Chapter 1

Serena Campbell could feel the pressure building in her left ear. She knew she was getting sick; it's the only time her ears would pressurize and she would hear that odd ringing sensation. She had felt light headed earlier, but the feeling had passed and she had forced herself into coming in to work. It was Henrik Hanssen's first day back at work and she was not going to miss it. He might feel she was trying to hide away like a coward which she would never do.

He had become a liability to the hospital and she had never been afraid to say what she thought. It wasn't like she hadn't tried to assist him after the whole incident with Richie Mooney, but he was so fixated on standing up for his principles that he forgot to play politics. And the Board members loved politics.

"Ms Campbell," Jonny Maconie greeted as she got into the lift with him.

"Morning," she smiled. She had not had a great deal to do with Jonny and his partner, Mo Effanga, but she had heard some good things. They were both an impressive team.

"Have you seen Mr H yet?"

Serena felt her stomach knot. "No, not yet. Have you?"

"No, but then I've only just gotten in," Jonny answered. He couldn't help wondering how Hanssen was going to deal with the woman. He pictured Hanssen as a knight fighting a dragon. The thought brought a smile to his face which he tried to hide from the tired looking CEO.

Serena had always sensed some discomfort from Jonny on the few occasions she had been in his presence. She wondered if Jac Naylor had anything to do with it.

The lift opened and Serena wandered out, glancing up and down the corridor. No sign of Hanssen. She was quite pleased. There was a part of her that was just not in the mood for an argument.

"Morning," Professor Elliot Hope greeted from behind her. She spun around to meet the older man.

"Good morning," she smiled, walking along with him. "Are you on your way to see . . .?"

"Mr Hanssen," Elliot finished for her, smiling sheepishly.

"Right," Serena nodded. "So he is here after all."

"I believe so. I just got a phone call from him."

Serena took a deep breath, feeling a hot flush come over her.

"Are you okay?" Elliot asked suddenly, pausing to look at her.

"Absolutely fine," she smiled. "Probably just too much wine last night."

"You know, Mr Hanssen isn't really one to hold a grudge. He's too professional for that."

"I'm really okay," Serena reassured him, continuing her walk toward Hanssen's office. In truth, she was feeling worse than earlier. She wasn't sure if it was because she was becoming ill or if it was the thought of facing Hanssen, but she was consciously trying to fight the urge to lean against the wall to regain her balance. She waited as Elliot knocked on the door and almost jumped at the familiar deep sound of Henrik Hanssen's voice.

She hesitated as Elliot held the door open for her. She wondered if she should just come back later, but her laptop was on Hanssen's desk and she wouldn't be able to do anything without it. A part of her wondered if he had not kept it in his office to force her to make an appearance.

Finally gaining enough courage, she stepped into the office that she had been working in up until a day ago.

Hanssen was seated behind the desk, going through emails. Her laptop had been conveniently placed to the side of the desk, but was not out of sight.

"Mr Hanssen," she said, trying to sound pleased to see him but not overly pleased.

"Ah, Ms Campbell," Hanssen looked up at her. "Professor Hope," he greeted, standing up.

"How have you been?" Elliot went over to shake his hand. Serena found she couldn't move and just watched the two men exchange niceties.

"I wanted to hear about the Hertzig project," Hanssen said. "I hear it's a remarkable success."

"Well, I don't want to blow my own horn, but it has come along rather nicely."

"I look forward to hearing the details."

"Why don't you two catch up and I'll just come back later," Serena reached out to collect her laptop, but Hanssen's hand was faster than hers and he rested it on the machine, making it clear he wanted to speak to her.

Elliot had noticed it as well and started moving away. "I'll make sure I bring all the information and results from the Hertzig for our catch up," Elliot said.

"That would be fantastic," Hanssen's lips twitched upwards to show he was pleased.

Serena waited as the man closed the door behind him. She could picture his eyes moving from Hanssen to her with concern and she didn't feel like smiling to him again. She waited in silence as Hanssen took his seat again, glancing at his computer screen.

"I take it you wanted to speak to me," she finally broke the silence.

"Indeed," the man answered, resting back in his seat. "I wanted to let you know that I have changed the passwords to my private emails."

Serena looked down at the floor, trying to think of what to say. "The only reason we had to hack into your email account was because you had disappeared and were refusing to reply to our numerous attempts at contact. That and the fact that you were refusing a £40 million deal, of course," she heard herself say.

"Which was none of your business."

"Unfortunately, Holby City _is_ my business," she answered, feeling another hot flush. The pressure in her ear was increasing to an uncomfortable level.

"I've been informed by the board that you will be acting as CEO for another few months – on a trial basis. At the end of the trial, I will assess your suitability and ultimately decide whether you stay on or are moved back down to AAU."

"_You_ make that decision?"

"That's correct."

She reached down to grab hold of the back of the chair to steady herself. "And the board are okay with this, are they?"

"Why wouldn't they be? I've been more than capable of acting as CEO and DOS for the last few years."

"Yes, but that was until you decided to publicly criticize the government and then run off leaving the rest of us to clean up the pieces."

"And I understand you were more than ready to step into my shoes," Hanssen answered, observing her for a moment. "Have you ever heard the story of the fox and the scorpion?"

Serena tried to compose herself. She was furious at the decision to allow Hanssen to decide her fate. "I don't believe so."

"The scorpion needs to cross a river and asks for the fox to carry him on his back. The fox agrees. Half way across the treacherous river, the scorpion stings the fox. The fox says 'Why would you do that? Now we'll both die' and the scorpion says 'I can't help it. It's just in my nature'."

This time it was Serena's turn to watch him. "And I'm presuming, in your little story, that I'm the scorpion?"

"I just thought it was quite fitting," he said.

"Well, thank you for that little _analogy_," she fumed, reaching down for her laptop and grabbing hold of it, pulling it from the desk, accidentally knocking over the photo frame that she had placed there when she had moved into his office. It was a beautiful photo of her daughter. She grimaced slightly as she heard the glass shatter. Sighing heavily, she put the laptop back on the desk and knelt down to clear up the mess. She was far too angry to even look at Hanssen who had come to stand next to his desk. It wasn't his fault and yet somehow it felt like it was. She snatched up the photo frame and started throwing the pieces of broken glass back onto it, in annoyance. She had just about cleaned up most it when she felt the last shard pierce through her skin. Dropping the whole frame again, she covered her hand. She didn't need to look to know that there would be blood.

"Here," Hanssen mumbled as he retrieved a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and reached down to apply pressure to her hand to prevent any further bleeding.

"I'm fine," she tried to protest, but Hanssen was not having any of it. He took hold of her hand and pressed down on it with his own for a few seconds before carefully peeling the material away to see the damage. It was deep cut, but not serious. "Does it feel like there are any remaining glass fragments in the cut?"

"No," she answered.

"Well, then I think you'll survive with a plaster," he got up to retrieve a small first aid kit from his drawer.

Serena looked down at his blood stained handkerchief. "I'll get this cleaned up."

"That's okay," Hanssen answered in a much gentler tone. "It's the risks that come with working in a hospital." He returned and gently stuck the plaster over the cut, smoothing it down with his thumb. His hands were warm. Her hands looked like those of a child in his. He reached down for the photo frame and carefully discarded the broken glass into the bin near his desk before peering down at the photo. "You have a beautiful daughter."

"Thank you," Serena watched him smile. "Let's just hope she doesn't turn out like _me_."

Hanssen immediately turned to look at her. "You're not a bad person. You just make bad choices."

"Thank you for clarifying that," she said more sarcastically than she had intended.

Hanssen handed the photo frame to her. "I look forward to seeing your ideas for the future of Holby."

She placed the photo frame under her arm as she took hold of her laptop. Not entirely sure what to say, she headed for the door.

"I appreciate we will be needing to work closely together," he said as soon as she had reached the door. "In other words, in the hospital's interests, it would be a good idea to let bygones be bygones."

"I couldn't agree more."

Hanssen nodded. He would be keeping a very close eye on her. The idea filled him with adrenaline; life at Holby was about to get risky.


	2. Chapter 2

Serena couldn't be sure if Hanssen had done it on purpose or not, but she had her suspicions; the office she had been assigned by the HR department was the size of a small garden shed; almost like a coffin. It was located right at the end of the corridor and seemed to have a constant humming sound from the ventilator which also spewed out cold air. She sighed heavily as she dumped her things on the tiny desk, struggling to get passed the small space between the desk and the wall. Under normal circumstances, she would storm into HR and demand they find her a suitable office, but she was still not feeling well and couldn't really be bothered to argue.

She carefully placed her laptop in front of her and took a seat. The desk chair made a strange squeaking sound as she sat down and then dropped at least five inches down, so that the desk barely reached her chin. She sat there for a second, unsure whether she wanted to laugh or scream out of frustration.

"Oh my," Michael Spence chuckled as he stepped into the tiny room. "This is . . . posh."

"Shut up, Michael," Serena quickly pushed the chair aside and got to her feet.

"I thought Hanssen banishing you to AAU was bad, but this . . . this is just cruel," he continued to chuckle.

Serena decided she'd had enough of him and once again squeezed between the desk and wall in order to get out which only made Michael laugh harder.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing," she glared at him.

"I'm sorry," he sputtered, wiping away a tear.

"This is ridiculous."

"No kidding," he glanced around the room. "Hey, you're more than welcome to steal your chair from AAU."

"That's exactly what I'm about to do," she smirked as she headed to the lift.

Michael followed her, still chuckling to himself when Henrik Hanssen stepped out into the corridor.

"Ms Campbell, everything alright?"

"Oh, everything's just _peachy_," she snapped.

"Mr Hanssen," Michael greeted.

"Ah, Mr Spence, I've been wanting to come down and see you on AAU."

"Well, there's no time like the present," Michael smirked. "Ms Campbell was just about to come down for an impromptu meeting."

Serena turned to glare at him again. "I didn't say that."

"Oh, that's right. You were coming to steal your chair so that you can look like less of a dwarf when you're at your desk," he chuckled again.

"Problems with your office equipment?" Hanssen turned to Serena.

"Nothing I can't deal with," she pressed the lift button viciously.

"If you require anything, I'm sure they might have some extra things in the basement."

"I'm fine," Serena finalized it.

"Well then, shall we?" Hanssen motioned for the open lift.

Serena bit her tongue as they all stepped in. There was an awkward silence that fell over them; as was the case with lifts. Serena was obviously in no mood to play nice. She had moved to the far corner of the lift with her arms folded across her chest. Almost like a petulant child.

Hanssen suppressed a smile. It was odd to see her sulk, but also strangely gratifying.

As soon as the lift opened, she was out of it like a shot and into Michael's office. Hanssen stood back, discussing AAU with Michael, but also acutely aware of Serena attempting to roll a desk chair out of Michael's office.

Serena was aware of the amount of time she was wasting trying to get her office sorted and she was still feeling decidedly ill, but she was determined. She pushed the chair through the door, almost falling over it when its leg got lodged. She pulled it back in and tried again, this time turning it slightly to the side, to no avail. It was heavier than she'd thought. Taking a deep breath, she tried to lift it and push it out. This time it worked and she dropped it just outside of the doorway, tripping over and falling into the chair which in turn rolled out from underneath her and flew into Michael's shin.

"Ouch!" Michael turned to see Serena lying face down on the floor.

"Do you need some assistance, Ms Campbell?" Hanssen turned to look at her, an amused look on his face.

"No, I'm fine," she said, still lying down on the floor. In truth, she just wanted to stay there forever and not move.

"I really wish we had CCTV for moments like these," Michael chuckled as he reached down to help her up.

Serena allowed him to, but was clearly beyond annoyed. "Give me my damn chair," she snapped.

Michael laughed as he rolled it along the corridor to the lift.

"Perhaps in the future, you should just ask for assistance," Hanssen said as he walked passed her. "It could get you out of a lot of trouble."

"I don't need _assistance_," she hissed, following him into the lift.

"I disagree."

"I don't . . ." she felt she was losing her temper with the tall man. "Don't tell me what to do."

"That is my job," Hanssen answered, avoiding her glare.

"It's like an old married couple," Michael smirked as the lift closed on him.

"_Old_?" Hanssen raised his eyebrow.

Serena didn't feel like joining in on the joke and instead leaned against the side panel in the lift, feeling the chair roll into her knee. She felt like kicking it.

"Would you care to tell me what's on your mind, Ms Campbell?" Hanssen finally turned to her.

"What makes you think there's something on my mind?"

"I can _feel_ the anger emanating from your body," he replied.

"You can try whatever you want, I will not give up and leave. I have worked far too hard for this," she finally blurted out.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"My office," she snapped. "The coffin."

"Coffin?" Hanssen looked confused. "Ms Campbell, are you feeling quite alright?"

"Yes, it's small enough to be a coffin."

"Your office?"

"Yes, _my_ office," Serena reiterated.

Hanssen gave her a strange look before the lift doors opened and they both stepped into the corridor. Serena dragged the chair behind her. She couldn't believe he was pretending not to know about the office situation.

"Uh, Ms Campbell?" Hanssen called.

She spun around, watching the confused look on Hanssen's face.

"Your office is this one," he motioned to the office directly opposite his own.

"What?"

Hanssen suppressed a smile as he watched her face drop. "You're heading to the store room."

"HR said room five-owe-six."

"Yes, and the store room is now five-owe-seven."

"Since when?"

"Since four weeks ago," Hanssen moved to open the door to her office.

Serena left the chair behind and walked towards him, feeling incredibly stupid as she stepped into the office which overlooked the car park. It was only slightly smaller than Hanssen's. She wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm not in the business of making your life difficult, Ms Campbell," Hanssen said from the doorway.

She felt like apologizing, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She just stood there for a few seconds in silence until she heard Hanssen roll her desk chair in. "I don't believe you'll be needing this, but I'm certain you won't want to bring it all the way back down to AAU," his lips twitched upwards as he watched her stare at the floor sheepishly. She had a lot to learn. "Like I said, asking for assistance is not a weakness."


	3. Chapter 3

"You _are _joking!" Serena scolded Mo Effanga.

"It's not _my_ fault," Mo defended herself. "I didn't do anything to it. I just turned it on and it blew up."

"What do you mean 'it blew up'?" Serena walked over to the piece of equipment that Hanssen had allowed Darwen to purchase, even though she had initially refused due to the cost.

"It made a hissing sound, there was a little smoke and all the lights went out."

Serena cautiously flipped the switch. The lights turned on. "Is this some kind of ploy to get me down here?" She asked, trying to keep her voice from disappearing. It appeared the flu was trying to take hold of her.

"It broke, honestly," Mo turned to Jonny Maconie who just nodded in agreement.

"_Clearly_ it's fine."

"Well, it wasn't fine a second ago."

"Am I to believe that you've cancelled this surgery due to a machine that's clearly fine?" She asked, turning suddenly as she heard a strange hissing sound. They all moved towards the machine to get a closer look. Suddenly the room filled with sparks and smoke. Everyone took cover as the machine physically exploded. Serena watched helplessly as parts went flying everywhere. The whole room plunged into darkness.

"I told you so," Mo's voice cut through the eerie silence.

"This is ridiculous," Serena hissed as she went to answer the phone that was ringing on the wall. "False alarm," she said to the security officer who had clearly noticed the silent fire alarm. "Everyone's fine."

"I warned her," Mo whispered to a shell shocked Jonny.

"Oh my god," Professor Elliot Hope covered his mouth is shock as he stepped into the room. "What happened?"

"Ms Campbell didn't believe the machine was faulty. So it _showed_ her," Mo shrugged.

"Is everyone okay?"

"We're fine," Jonny answered nonchalantly.

"I want this machine collected and replaced with immediate effect," Serena growled. "In the meantime, I think it's best that we stick with the good old physical labour type of operations – for now. And can we get a porter in here to clean up this mess?" She motioned towards the floor that was now strewn with bits and pieces from the machine.

"I'll get someone," Elliot said as he turned on his heels and marched towards the nurses' station.

Serena took a deep breath, trying to control her temper. She had warned Hanssen against making this purchase and it was obviously causing more trouble than it was worth. But naturally, the Swede was, once again, not around to pick up the pieces – quite literally this time.

"So, are we to assume that this theatre is going to be closed for the next hour while they decontaminate it?" Mo quickly asked.

"I think it's safe to assume that you're correct," Serena managed to say before having a coughing fit.

"You sound terrible," Jonny mumbled. "Maybe you shouldn't be walking around the wards, contaminating the patients."

"_You_ called _me_ down here, remember," she replied between coughs and trying to catch her breath. He was right, of course. No one liked the thought of a doctor walking around wards whilst coughing their lungs out in front of the patients; especially not when the said patients were recovering from traumatic heart surgery. She gave Jonny a glare before deciding to go see Mr Hanssen. She used the lift, uncertain whether her lungs would be able to take the exercise from the stairs in their current condition. She felt like an old smoker even though she didn't smoke.

This was once again, an example of the incomprehensible decisions of the Director of Surgery, Serena thought. She told him to use the extra financing that they had received from the board on another 3D-stack machine which had already proven itself on numerous occasions. Hanssen had refused. She told him not to purchase this machine for Darwen, so what did he do? He bought the bloody thing. She was surprised he hadn't wrapped it up with a bow and left it in her office for her to roll downstairs.

Realizing she was becoming more and more annoyed, she decided to skip the idea of going to see Hanssen to tell him how idiotic his idea had been. She just hoped the machine was definitely under warranty.

She reached her office after having another coughing fit as she walked down the corridor. Her voice was disappearing faster than the end of the day was approaching and she could not wait to get home to soak in a hot bath tub.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she croaked, trying to clear her throat.

The door opened to reveal the man she had been hoping not to run into. "Ms Campbell," Hanssen greeted.

"I suppose you've heard about Darwen."

Hanssen gave her a quizzical look, raising his eyebrows in response.

"Your heart machine," she said. "It blew up."

"It blew up?"

"Yes, I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't been there."

"Is everyone alright?"

"Oh yes, we're all _fine_," Serena slumped into her chair, glancing down at the stack of paperwork she had. The table seemed to be moving slightly and she realized that she was feeling dizzy.

"Ms Campbell, are you alright? You've become quite pale."

"I'm fine," she lied, trying to get over the nauseous feeling in her stomach. "It's just the flu."

"Perhaps you should take off early."

Serena glanced up at him, trying to read his face. Was he actually concerned or just trying to get rid of her? "I'll be fine."

"The machine is under guarantee. We'll need to contact the manufacturers to make them aware of the malfunction."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea," she stared back at him. There was no way in hell she was going to run after a company that she had specifically requested Hanssen _not_ does business with.

"I will deal with it," Hanssen finally realized the woman in front of him was not going to accept the responsibility of calling them.

"That machine could have killed . . ." she was cut off by another coughing fit. This time she felt so much dizzier and had to rest her head on the table.

She squeezed her eyes shut, opening them when she felt movement beside her. Hanssen had poured her a glass of water and placed it beside her head. "You really should keep your intake of fluids to a maximum should you wish to recuperate."

Serena nodded, sipping from the glass. "I apologize for snapping," she said just as he was about to leave her office.

He turned back to look at her. "That's quite okay. I've grown accustomed to your foul temper."

"I do _not_ have a foul temper," she smiled.

Hanssen acknowledged her for a moment before his lips twitched upwards in amusement.

"Was there anything else you wanted to say? Before I informed you about the situation on Darwen?"

"Ah, yes," Hanssen half turned back to her, still holding the door open. "I wanted to compliment you on your work on the risk management report. It was very well compiled."

"Thank you," she smiled, glancing down at her desk.

"Lemon and honey," he said.

"I'm sorry?" She looked up at him in surprise.

"Hot water with lemon and honey," he answered. "Honey acts as a natural antibiotic."

"I'll give it a try," she nodded.

"Yes, please do," he turned to leave. "You've become quite invaluable to me."

Serena watched him close the door, leaving her in silence. The man was insufferable and yet he had moments of endearment.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is leading to something, I promise! Thanks for the reviews.x**

It had been over two weeks before Serena had even started feeling like herself. The flu had definitely decided to take a vice-like grip on her system, but she had managed to fight it off with only allowing one day off of work to rest. She was running unusually late for work; Eleanor had managed to lose her mobile and they had spent the most part of the morning looking for it. Eventually Serena had had to force her into the car without it, bribing her with the promise of a brand new one. It was not in her nature to be late and she hated the feeling of time passing her by.

She felt her mobile start ringing and waited for it to transfer through to her headset. "Hello?"

"Serena," Michael Spence greeted. "Are you or the Swedish wizard planning on coming into Oz anytime today?"

Serena sighed heavily. "I'm on my way, Michael. Hanssen's not in yet?"

"Nope."

Serena was about to mention how strange that was until she realized what Michael had actually said. "Oh, hahaha, Michael," she said sarcastically. "So if Hanssen's the wizard, that makes me . . ."

"The witch," Michael answered without a beat.

"Yeah, you might want to show me a bit of respect while I go through the budget this week, deciding whose jobs we keep and who we let go."

"Whatever," Michael chuckled. "So what's your E.T.A?"

"I'm about . . ." Serena paused as she pulled into the left lane of the dual carriageway. "Oh, that is _classic_," she drawled.

"What?" Michael sounded confused.

"Michael, I'm going to have to call you back," she hung up, taking a closer look at the car pulled up on the hard shoulder. She suppressed a smile as she carefully pulled up in front of it, glancing back in her rear view mirror to see the man leaning against the barrier. She giggled lightly as she stepped out into the cold weather. "Car trouble?"

"Ms Campbell," Hanssen nodded at her, straightening up. "I would have imagined you would be at work already," he glanced down at his watch.

She tried not to scowl at him. "The insinuation that I am late is incorrect," she stepped towards him. "I've put in over thirty hours of overtime this week alone. It cancels it out."

"I'm glad _you_ think so."

"Is there a problem with your car or is it just a Swedish thing to perch oneself on the side of a busy dual carriageway and watch the world go by?"

This time it was Hanssen's turn to scowl. "It appears my clutch cable may have snapped."

Serena nodded, knowing the feeling all too well, having been through the same thing a few months back. "Right," she observed the man for a few seconds. He looked pale. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Ms Campbell."

"You don't really look yourself."

"I don't believe you've ever seen me 'perched on the side of a busy dual carriageway and watching the world go by'," he answered, keeping a look out for the vehicle recovery truck.

"No," Serena smiled. "Flu?"

Hanssen glared at her. "Perhaps."

Serena chuckled at the thought. "Lemon and honey."

"I am aware of what I should be taking, thank you," Hanssen snapped.

"Are you keeping the fluid levels in your body up?" Serena teased.

"Ms Campbell, perhaps you should get to work," Hanssen said as the tow truck pulled up.

Serena stood leaning against her own car as she listened to Hanssen speak to the mechanic who confirmed his diagnosis of a snapped clutch cable.

"I can drop you off at work if you like," the mechanic said.

Serena nearly laughed as she watched the look of horror emerge on Hanssen's face. Obviously the staff could not see him being driven in by a tow truck. "That's fine," Serena joined the two men. "I'll take him."

Hanssen nodded in agreement with her.

She waited for him to finalize things with the recovery truck before he got into the passenger's seat. "All set?"

"Yes," he nodded, pulling on his seatbelt.

They both fell silent for a few minutes. Serena increased her speed as she tried to move into the right lane.

"Speed control," Hanssen said, noticing that she was now going 70 miles in a 60 mile zone.

"There aren't any cameras around here," Serena answered, glancing in her rearview mirror as she pulled into the right lane.

"That's beside the point."

"Oh, shush," she heard herself say.

"Did you just _shush_ me?" Hanssen turned to her.

"Stop being a backseat driver," Serena snapped.

"You're hogging the lane," Hanssen said. "You're supposed to be in the left lane."

_Picking him up was a bad idea_, she thought. "I am going to drop you off on the side of the road and you can _walk_ into Holby in a minute."

Hanssen's lips twitched upwards in amusement as he watched her tighten her grip on the steering wheel.

"The speed limit is there as a guide and can be ignored in the case of an emergency," Serena said, finally pulling into the left lane.

"And you would class this as an emergency?"

"We're _late_ for work," she answered. "For all I know, Michael's locked himself in my office with the new pediatrics nurse, Ric has forced everyone to convert to Buddhism, Jac has subjected all new F1s to some type of surgical-boot-camp-fight-to-the-death and Sasha and Elliot have killed each other with _kindness_," she finally took a breath.

Hanssen raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad to know you have so much faith in our staff."

"It's not about having faith," she spat. "It's about leadership. Without leadership, people are lost."

"I don't think Mr Griffin is a Buddhist."

"What?" Serena glanced at him. "I . . . it was a figure of speech."

"Careful," Hanssen pointed to the stationary lorry that Serena was becoming dangerously close to.

She stomped on the break, flinging them both forward.

Hanssen pulled himself back, watching as Serena gave a sheepish grunt of apology. "Perhaps I would have been safer on the side of a busy dual carriageway."

Serena gave him one last glare before indicating to get into the right lane. "Well, if you hadn't told me to move back into the left lane . . ."

"I thought you weren't going to listen to me . . . as usual."

Serena rolled her eyes. This was worse than being married. At least when she was married, she had the use of her husband's credit cards. "Oh, will somebody just let me in," she raised her voice, trying to push in front of a red Mercedes in the right lane. The man responded with a loud toot and a flashing of his lights. "Oh, _relax_! Honestly, some people have no consideration," she said as she pulled out in front of a young woman who was forced to stop just to let her in.

Hanssen turned slightly in his seat to watch as the young woman gesticulated madly in anger at Serena who was pretending not to notice. He turned back to face the road. The traffic had increased significantly.

There was a loud screeching sound that made them both jump.

"What the hell is that?" Serena glanced around the car.

Hanssen reached underneath his seat, pulling out a bright pink mobile.

Serena rolled her eyes. "It's Eleanor's," she sighed. "So much for checking the car."

Hanssen smiled, pressing the reject button and turning it off for the rest of the journey. "Nice colour," he said.

Serena smiled at him, knowing he was being sarcastic. "Oh well, maybe I'll get you one for your birthday."

"I look forward to it," he nodded, disinterested in the conversation.

"Finally!" Serena called out, turning off of the dual carriageway and onto the road to Holby. Hanssen braced against the door as Serena took a sharp turn into the hospital's entrance. "Control your speed, Ms Campbell."

Serena smirked as she increased the pace slightly, spinning the steering wheel as she pulled into her parking spot and slamming down on the breaks. The car screeched to a halt.

"_Honestly_," Hanssen sighed.

"Safe and sound," she chuckled, noticing the glint of amusement in Hanssen's eyes, even if he _was_ trying to hide it.

"Perhaps the next seminar you attend should be a driving one," Hanssen replied as he climbed out of her car.

Serena laughed, grabbing her handbag and locking the car as Hanssen waited for her. "I think we made exceptional time."

"Well, with you driving like a bat out of hell, what did you _expect_?" He coughed.

Serena was almost pleased she had passed her flu on to him. It would be amusing to see the great Mr Hanssen struggle with man-flu.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed and/or read! This is the start of the build up to something.x**

The morning had been busier than usual and Serena had been juggling her responsibilities as clinical director of surgery and general consultant and she could not wait to get home to a glass of wine. Hanssen had been unusually quiet for a change; no E-mails ordering her around. And she couldn't help but wonder if it was because he was feeling embarrassed about his car breaking down or if he too was just busy.

An impromptu meeting had been set up for a patient on Darwin who was suffering from a severe heart problem and most of the specialists and consultants from Darwin had been requested to attend the meeting discussing surgical options.

Serena watched as Hanssen stepped into the conference room, assuming his seat at the head of the table. He looked flushed and his eyes were sunken and blood shot.

"Ms Naylor, would you care to begin?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck as the young red head stood up and began her presentation on an unusual case on Darwin.

"The tissue around the patient's heart has deteriorated beyond the rate we initially thought possible," she said.

Serena was trying to focus on what she was saying but her gaze turned to the Director of Surgery who was leaning forward in his seat and looking quite ill. She would never have imagined ever feeling empathy for Hanssen, but he genuinely looked very sick.

"Are you _okay_?" She leaned over and very quietly whispered.

Hanssen looked surprised by her concern. "Fine, thank you, Ms Campbell."

Jac stopped speaking and glared at them. "If you two are quite finished . . ."

"My apologies, Ms Naylor, please con. . ." Hanssen stopped in mid-sentence as he started violently coughing. Everyone at the table stopped to stare at him.

Serena reached over for the jug of water and poured him a glass, placing it in front of him, almost reaching out to rub his back, but stopping herself. She didn't want people thinking she'd gone soft.

"Mr Hanssen," Professor Hope started. "Perhaps you should take the day off. You sound dreadful."

Hanssen held his hand up in protest, trying to sip the water in front of him.

"Perhaps he can do that after we've discussed what needs to be done for my patient," Jac said, obviously not realizing how callous it sounded.

Serena shot her a glare. "How about we just continue with the presentation?"

"Fine by me," Jac continued as Hanssen leaned back in his seat.

As soon as Jac had filled them in on the patient's case, Professor Hope and another cardiothoracic consultant discussed options that they would suggest. At this point, Serena had taken the reigns from Hanssen and was doing most of the talking, glancing over at Hanssen once in a while to ensure that he agreed with her.

"So, once again, we're going with the easiest option," Jac said. "Not to mention the most cost effective."

"And the _safest_," Serena replied sternly, noting the sarcasm in the younger woman's voice.

Jac rolled her eyes. "I thought this was supposed to be a _teaching_ hospital. How can any of us learn if we never take risks?"

"The decision's been made, Ms Naylor," Hanssen rose from his seat. "Just get it done, please."

Serena remained seated along with Hanssen until everyone had left the room. "Maybe Professor Hope has a point – you probably should take the rest of the day off."

"There's no need."

"You don't look so great," Serena sighed.

"Thank you, Ms Campbell," Hanssen snapped. "Your sympathy is overwhelming."

"I sympathize with you," she smirked. "I was ill a few weeks ago."

"And as I recall you continued to spread your disease to the rest of us."

Serena raised an eyebrow. "It's not like I went around kissing you, Mr Hanssen."

This time it was Hanssen who raised an eyebrow.

Serena broke off eye contact and collected her things before heading for the door. "If you're so against the idea of taking the day off to rest then I'm sure you won't mind if I send you the risk management report to read through. I need to send it to Terrence Cunningham by the end of the day."

"Absolutely," Hanssen nodded, his mouth pinched.

Serena shook her head in annoyance. The man was ridiculously stubborn. She had gotten half way down the hallway when she saw Terrence Cunningham coming out of the lift. She was almost tempted to run into a nearby room, but her legs wouldn't move as fast as her brain would conjure escape routes and she saw him smile upon noticing her.

_Damn_, she thought, smiling back.

"Ms Campbell," Terrence reached her and gave her a somewhat overly familiar peck on the cheek. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," she tried to pull her arm out of his grip without being rude. "How are you?"

"Not too bad, thank you."

"What brings you to Holby today?"

"Well, I have a meeting with Mr Hanssen."

"Oh?" she gave him a questioning look. No one had mentioned anything about a meeting to her.

"It's nothing important, really. Just a catch up."

"A catch up?" Serena smirked, knowing that he and Hanssen were not the best of friends.

"Mr Cunningham," Hanssen called from the conference room, looking pale.

"Lovely seeing you, Serena," Terrence said, giving her another peck on the cheek as he walked towards Hanssen. "We must arrange dinner."

She watched as Terrence stepped into the conference and Hanssen shot her a suspicious look as he closed the door.

* * *

Serena had just about managed to finish up with her electives and some extra paperwork before she decided to make a quick stop to see Hanssen before she headed home. She was curious to discover the reason behind Cunningham's sudden appearance and was going to use the risk management report as an excuse to try and draw the information out of him. She knocked gently, waiting for him to invite her in.

"Come in," he finally said.

Serena pushed the door open, pausing as she stepped in, unable to locate the tall Swede. She took a step towards his desk before hearing a sound coming from behind her. He was leaning against a filing cabinet. "Are you okay?"

"Fever," he answered, before heading towards his desk and dropping into his seat.

"Can I get you anything?" She asked, more out of politeness than anything else. She was irritated with the man and felt like he was trying to keep her out of the loop.

"No, thank you."

She dropped the risk management report on his desk. "It's unfinished, but I'll complete it tonight. If you have anything you want to add to it, perhaps you can let me know via E-mail," she turned to leave. "That's if you're feeling up to it."

"I will let you know what I think."

She reached for the door handle. "Mr Cunningham said _you'd_ arranged a meeting."

"That's right."

"Care to inform me what it was about?"

"It's none of your concern."

Serena could feel her blood start to boil.

"I'm surprised he didn't mention it to you," Hanssen said as soon as he noticed how angry she was getting. "Perhaps over a candlelit dinner."

Serena turned back to look at him, her eyes ablaze with fury. "What exactly are you saying?"

Hanssen got to his feet, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the daggers she was throwing at him with her eyes. He moved to the side of his desk and seemed to lose balance, grabbing at the side of his desk to steady himself.

_He deserves it_, she thought to herself, watching him try to regain his balance. "I _told_ you to go home."

Hanssen didn't answer, he lowered his head slightly.

Serena was tempted to leave him, but she couldn't find it in herself to do it and instead, walked around to him and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. "You're burning up."

Hanssen pulled away from her touch.

Serena rolled her eyes. If it had been anyone else, she may have been a little hurt, but she knew Hanssen wasn't a very touchy-feely person. "I'll drive you home," she heard herself say and was almost as surprised as he was.

"I am perfectly capable of . . ." he paused, realizing that his car was still in the garage and the idea of having to get a taxi was not exactly appealing.

"Get your things," Serena sighed, turning away from him and making it clear that she was not taking no for an answer. He obediently collected his coat and briefcase before walking with her to the car park and climbing into her BMW.

Serena glanced over at him as she clipped in her seat belt. His eyes were sunken and he genuinely looked ill. "You're going to need to direct me."

Once they reached Hanssen's house, Serena was bored of the silence between the two of them. It had been made worse by the fact that he was sulking as a result of his flu.

"Thank you," he said as he climbed out. "Have a good evening, Ms Campbell."

Serena watched him make his way up the stairs to his front door and was about to leave when she noticed him lose his balance again and nearly fall over.

She quickly climbed out of the driver's seat and rushed up the stairs. "Okay, probably not a good idea to climb stairs when you're feeling dizzy," she said as she put her arm around his waist, allowing him to use her to balance on. "Keys," she held her hand out and was slightly relieved when he dropped them into her hand. She had imagined he would put up more of a fight. Unlocking the door, she helped him into the entrance.

"I'm capable of handling things from here, Ms Campbell," Henrik said.

"You know," she sighed as he moved away from her and leaned against the wall instead. "A few weeks ago, you told me that asking for assistance is not a sign of weakness."

Hanssen acknowledged this with a nod of his head.

"This is ridiculous," Serena snorted. She had a million and one things to do and here she was; trying to help a man who didn't even _want_ her help. "Okay, I'll leave as soon as you're in bed. Deal?"

"I do not need to be mothered," Hanssen snapped.

"Well, believe me, the last thing I want to do is mother you," she snapped back. "I do have more important things to do with myself."

Hanssen started climbing the stairs.

"I'll get some lemon and honey," she said as she headed into his kitchen. The place was immaculate and it almost didn't seem like anyone lived there at all.

By the time Serena made it up the stairs and peered into his bedroom, Hanssen was lying flat on his back on his bed. He was still dressed in his suit.

"That bad, huh?" She smiled as she placed the cup of honey and lemon on his bedside table. She reached out to feel his forehead again and she swore his temperature had increased. "Have you taken anything to bring your fever down?"

"Not yet."

Serena sighed heavily, knowing she wouldn't be able to abandon him. She moved towards the end of the bed and removed his shoes for him, dropping them under his bed and then assisted him out of his jacket. She very awkwardly removed his waistcoat, noticing him watching her intently.

"Thank you, Ms Campbell," he said in a whispered tone.

"That's quite alright," she stopped herself from unbuttoning his shirt, sensing that it was probably not the best idea. "Do you want me to turn off the heating?"

"Please," he answered, raising himself in his bed in order to drink his lemon and honey.

Serena quickly moved to turn off the radiator, before turning to look back at him. "Okay, well, I should head off. Is there anything you need me to get for you before I leave?"

"No, thank you," Hanssen gave her a slight smile before having another coughing fit.

Serena climbed onto the other side of the bed and patted his back soothingly. "Don't think of this as me being nice," she warned.

"I would never imagine that of you," Hanssen smiled, still trying to catch his breath.

"Good," she chuckled. "I suppose I can stay for a little while longer. I do need to finish that risk management report."

"I don't need you to babysit me," Hanssen protested.

"I'm not," she snapped. "Don't think you'll be doing any sleeping."

Hanssen raised an eyebrow.

"That's not what I meant," she blushed slightly, getting up and heading back to her car to get her laptop. When she returned, Hanssen had gotten dressed into a short sleeved vest and pair of pyjama trousers. It felt so odd seeing him like that. She made herself comfortable on the other side of his bed and began reading what she had written in her report. Every now and again, Hanssen would tell her to add something in or change something. She only realized how late it was when she noticed he had become very quiet and upon investigation, she found him fast asleep. She decided to rest her eyes for a few moments, not realizing how tired she actually was until she dozed off.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay in updating! This is leading up to something and I can't seem to rush it along.x**

Serena awoke with a start. It took her a while to remember where she was. She was still positioned on Hanssen's bed and she grimaced as she tried to roll out of his bed without waking him. Her eyes fell onto her laptop and panic surged through her when she realized how late it was. It was nearly ten in the morning and she had promised the risk management report to the members of the board by the start of the day; not to mention Terrence Cunningham having expected it by the previous night.

"Oh no!" She reached for it, noticing Hanssen stir.

"Ms Campbell?" Hanssen croaked, his voice almost faded.

"Yes, I fell asleep," she replied, perching herself on the edge of his bed as she turned her laptop back on. "Damn, I didn't finish it."

"The report?" Hanssen sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

"It's fine, go back to sleep," she called over her shoulder. "I'll just make something up."

"Come here," he said softly.

Serena cautiously turned to face him.

"Move closer and I can help you word it."

"I don't need any help," she snapped. "I have a Business degree from Harvard for God sake. I'm perfectly capable of completing a stupid . . . report," she spat the word out, feeling overly anxious.

"I don't doubt your abilities," Hanssen answered, clearly still feeling groggy and feverish.

Serena couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for her remark.

"Can I get you a cup of coffee?" He asked, pushing his duvet aside.

"No," Serena answered, turning to watch him get out of bed. He still seemed a bit out of balance. "Just get some sleep. I'll get you something to drink," she tossed her laptop aside on the bed.

"No, no, you need to finish that report."

"What's another few minutes?" she mumbled as she headed down the stairs, pausing in as she passed the mirror and trying to adjust the mascara that had smudged under her eyes and the few pieces of hair that were determined to stand on end.

By the time she had finished making coffee for herself, lemon and honey for Hanssen and a slice of toast for them both, Hanssen had returned to bed and was typing away on her laptop.

"I told you I didn't need any help," Serena grumbled as she placed the hot drink beside her superior with a plate of toast.

"I don't mind. Besides, it's my fault you fell asleep."

"Yeah, right," Serena snorted. "It must've been your Swedish sleeping powder at fault."

Hanssen smirked, still focused on the report he was typing.

Serena moved to the other side of the bed and sat back against the head rest, sipping her coffee and trying to read what Hanssen was typing away at. "I wouldn't write that," she said.

Hanssen glanced at her, before deleting the sentence and rewriting it as he would imagine she would.

"Not too shabby," Serena smiled, moving closer. She watched in awe as he typed away, pausing every now and again to think of a better word to use. She took over the last few paragraphs, reading them out loud as she typed it, seeking Hanssen's approval without actually realizing it. "And with that, I think we're about done," Serena said, straightening up as she saved the document, smiling triumphantly back at Hanssen who in turn gave her a small smile and nod of encouragement. Serena hit the send button and sent it to the members of the board, adding a little note to Terrence Cunningham, apologizing for sending the report later than promised and blaming it on a computer malfunction.

"Mr Cunningham will no doubt be pleased you remembered him," Hanssen said with a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Serena observed him for a second. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you."

"Liar," Serena sighed. "You still have a fever. Maybe I should pop into the clinic and get you something for your chest. You sound a little clogged up."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you, Ms Campbell."

Serena smiled to herself. Typical Hanssen. "Well, I might get something for you anyway. You're fortunate that it's a Saturday. I don't have to get to work, so you have me all to yourself."

Hanssen gave her a strange look.

"Chicken soup always tends to do the job for me," she said. "Do you mind if I use your kitchen to make it?"

"Ms Campbell," Henrik started. "I appreciate your concern, but that's not necessary."

"Oh, nonsense," she got to her feet. "Eat your toast. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Hanssen watched as she disappeared.

* * *

Serena had rushed home for a shower and to get changed into clean clothes before heading into town to buy some supplies and medicine for Hanssen. She wasn't entirely sure what was making her go back to his house. He was probably the most mundane, straight laced person she knew, but she couldn't turn her back on him. A year ago, she was more than ready to throw him under the train when it came to Holby. She felt he was unstable as a leader and that he had been making some terrible decisions, but then she had not known him for very long. The last few months had forced her to work closely with him and she had come to realize that Hanssen's life surrounded Holby General. And he wasn't a bad person; just a little different.

She stepped into his house and headed straight to the kitchen to dump the grocery bags. Grabbing the cough mixture, she searched through the drawers for a table spoon before proceeding up the stairs.

Hanssen was half asleep as she quietly stepped into the room. "Feeling any better?" she whispered as she felt his forehead. The fever had seemed to subside a bit.

"Yes, thank you."

Serena stared down at him, sighing heavily. "I wish you'd tell me the truth."

"That makes two of us."

Serena ignored his comment, knowing full well what he meant. He didn't trust her relationship with Cunningham. And he was right not to. "Here, take this," she poured a tablespoon full of cough medicine.

Hanssen sat up as Serena brought the spoon to his mouth, taking it from her as if to prove to her that he was not unable to help himself. She rolled her eyes.

"Right, I'm going to make chicken soup. Is there anything you're allergic to that I should know about? I don't want anyone arresting me for attempted murder."

"Well, you're in luck," Hanssen said as he placed the spoon on the bedside table. "I have no allergies that I'm aware of."

"Let's hope there's not a first," she smiled to herself, taking the spoon back downstairs as she began to prepare her soup. She had gotten half way through when her mobile started ringing. "Hello?"

"Serena," Terrence Cunningham spoke. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," she tried to suppress a sigh. "How are you?"

"Wondering when you're free for dinner again," he answered. "We haven't seen each other outside of all the bureaucracy for a while and I was wondering . . . if you'd like to have a . . . catch up?"

"Maybe next week?" Serena answered, trying to stop her soup from burning.

"I was hoping tonight," Terrence sounded disappointed.

The last thing she needed was to get on his bad side. "I have Eleanor over tonight," she lied. "You know how it is."

"Yes, I understand," Terrence sighed.

"Next week," Serena repeated. "I'll make it worth your while."

"I'm intrigued already," he whispered.

"I have to go," she hung up, placing her mobile on the kitchen table. She felt slightly sick to her stomach. The one night she had spent with Terrence had been a drunken mistake, but the second and third had been more out of strategy than anything else. She figured she'd made the mistake once, why not use it to her advantage?

She finished making the soup and wondered up to check on Hanssen again, ensuring that he was okay. He looked peaceful in his sleep and Serena couldn't help but stare at him. It felt so odd to see the mighty Mr Hanssen asleep in his bed. She smiled as he started snoring lightly.

She decided to leave him to it and headed back downstairs to call her daughter and ensure she was safe and sound before pouring herself a glass of wine and reading through an academic paper that she was writing. She hadn't noticed the time until she heard Hanssen coming down the stairs.

She looked up at him, feeling a little sheepish. She was supposed to be looking after him. "Hungry yet?"

"It does smell good - from what I _can_ smell," Hanssen smiled.

Serena quickly got to her feet, reaching for a bowl that she had found and dished up some chicken soup. "Do you want to eat here or upstairs?" She turned around and almost knocked right into him. "Sorry," she mumbled, feeling a familiar attraction as she brushed passed him to remove the fresh bread rolls from the shopping bag.

"I can eat here," Hanssen answered. "Thank you."

"Don't blame me if it's terrible," she smiled, motioning for him to take a seat as she set the bowl of steaming hot soup in front of him and placed the bread on a small plate, bringing a butter knife and butter.

She poured herself a bowl and took a seat opposite him, trying to ignore the reaction he had evoked when she had walked into him.

"It's delicious," Hanssen said, drawing her attention back to him.

"Thank you."

"I didn't know you could cook."

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"I can only imagine."

Serena raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to elaborate, but he didn't. They fell silent for a few minutes, not really knowing what to discuss apart from hospital business. They didn't really know that much about each other apart from the fact that they distrusted each other.

After dinner, Hanssen went to take a shower as Serena cleaned up. She had every intention of spending the night in her own bed with her own little comforts. She headed up to his room after a while, only to find him sitting up in bed, taking some of the cough mixture she had bought him. "You don't seem as bad as you did yesterday."

"I'm getting there," he answered.

"Well, I should be getting home," she stood next to the bed, glancing down at him.

"Thank you for taking care of me. You're a good doctor," he smiled at her.

Serena leaned over and kissed Hanssen on the cheek before pausing, breathing in the fresh smell of minty shower gel. She had to force herself to move away from him, not trusting what she would do.

"You're more than welcome to stay," Hanssen suddenly said.

Serena hadn't been expecting that. "I'm not sure it would be such a good idea. I mean last night I didn't even realize I had fallen asleep. But tonight, I would willingly be sleeping over. What would the hospital staff say?" She said sarcastically.

"We're both adults," Hanssen said. "And they don't need to know anything."

Serena raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking me to stay to take care of you or because you want . . . something else?"

"As much as I would love to indulge your carnal desires, Ms Campbell, I fear I'm too ill for any strenuous activities," he smiled at her.

"Who said anything about strenuous?" She laughed, almost forgetting she was flirting with Henrik Hanssen.

"In all seriousness, the offer's there," Hanssen said.

"Thank you," Serena nodded. She didn't much feel like travelling home, even though she had been certain that she would be in her own bed by midnight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for everyone who's read/reviewed.x**

Serena wasn't entirely sure what had made her decide to leave Hanssen's home; it could have been the way she was suddenly feeling towards him or the look in his eyes when he looked at her. Either way, she felt it best to get out before she allowed anything to happen that she might regret at a later stage. She wasn't sure what she saw in his eyes when he looked at her, but she had not seen it before and it was definitely not the way he looked at other colleagues. Her career meant everything to her and she was not about to destroy it because of a moment of weakness. In any case, Hanssen's days were numbered and she knew Terence Cunningham was trying his best to eliminate the Swede from the hospital completely. They had spent many nights discussing Hanssen's impulsive decisions and the far stretching ramifications because of them. Serena had been perfectly happy to discuss every choice and every new idea the man came up with with Cunningham. But now she felt oddly guilty. She built him up to be a total disaster in her mind, but now she found herself almost liking the man.

Sighing heavily, Serena picked up her mobile, waiting for the person on the other end to answer. "Terence? Eleanor's gone out for the night. How about that catch up?"

* * *

It had been over a week since Serena had accidentally slept over in Hanssen's bed and she was secretly pleased that she had been forced to attend a course on how to use the latest medical equipment because it had provided her with a brilliant excuse to steer clear of Hanssen. It had given her time to think things through. She had come to the conclusion that she was a doctor first and foremost and therefore it was in her nature to care for anyone who needed medical treatment which was why she had helped Hanssen. But, she was also a woman and obviously when men and women find themselves in close proximity to each other, it is very common for sexual feelings to arise. It didn't mean anything. It just meant that they were both human. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

She hadn't mentioned anything to Cunningham. She knew he would be furious and she quite enjoyed their relationship; he would tell her anything she wanted to know. He seemed to trust her implicitly. Their rendezvous had provided a welcomed distraction, but the thought of Hanssen had been present in the back of her mind even when they had been in bed together. Cunningham had commented on her being distant and she had soothed his concerns with a bright smile, telling him that the hospital had been incredibly busy. They had discussed the members of the board; Serena had been surprised to hear that they were planning an unscheduled tour of the hospital - hoping to find something to nail Hanssen with. He had then continued to complain about Hanssen, obviously expecting her to join in. She had struggled with that part of their discussion. There was a part of her that felt like she was betraying him.

Serena fell into her seat, rolling it closer to her desk as she opened her patient's file, trying to bring her thoughts back to the man she had just examined. She felt a presence in the doorway and her eyes moved to focus on the tall, dark haired man standing there.

"Ah, Ms Campbell," Hanssen greeted, glancing down at the folder stacked on her desk. "Busy morning?"

"Quite," she answered, turning her attention back to the folder in front of her. "How are feeling?"

"Much better, thank you," he said, taking a tentative step towards her desk. "All thanks to your chicken soup."

Serena glanced at him and quickly focused on the words she was writing in her patient's folder. "Glad it did the trick."

A white plastic container appeared on the edge of her desk and she stopped writing, looking at the container and then at Hanssen who looked oddly sheepish. "What's this?"

Hanssen motioned for her to open it.

Serena cautiously held it to her ear. "Well, it's not ticking," she smirked, pulling the lid off and pausing slightly.

They're pistachio," Hanssen explained.

"You baked me cookies?" she looked up at him, smiling at the sudden shy look o his face.

"Just as a thank you," he nodded. "For you assistance."

Serena stared back at him, not really knowing what to say.

Michael Spence stepped into the office just in time. "Mmmm," he reached around Hanssen to steal one of the biscuits from the container that Serena was still holding, crunching on it loudly as he headed to his own desk. "Yum."

"Mr Spence," Hanssen greeted, giving him a slight disapproving look.

"Mr Hanssen," Michael sat back in his chair. "I didn't know we were due an inspection."

"I beg your pardon?" Hanssen turned to him.

"Cunningham the cockroach and his minions," Michael explained, motioning towards Keller.

Serena felt her stomach knot. She had completely forgotten to remind Cunningham to let her know when the trustees were planning on touring Holby. She placed the biscuits on the table as she noticed Hanssen slowly turning to look at her. Her eyes were fixated on the floor and it was apparent Hanssen knew she had knowledge of this. He gave her one last look before heading out onto the ward.

"These cookies are good," Michael rolled his chair over to steal another one. "Home baked. Made with love."

Serena pushed her chair back and stepped onto the ward. She noticed Hanssen talking to the small group of decidedly unimpressed trustees. Cunningham was standing in front of them, smiling broadly. He was enjoying the roasting they were giving Hanssen and they had obviously found something that they weren't too pleased with.

"Shall we discuss this in the conference room?" Hanssen asked politely, holding his arm out to show them the way. They started moving down the corridor. Cunningham paused as his eyes fell on Serena. He nodded at her, smiling and winking as he followed the trustees. Hanssen followed him, giving her one last glance. The look in his eyes said it all; _I shouldn't have trusted you_.

Serena felt sick to her stomach as she watched him disappear down the corridor. She stood still at the nurses' station, acutely aware of the anxious feeling gnawing at her.

"Ms Campbell, the results for Mr Andrews in bed one," Chantelle Lane held a folder out to her.

"Thank you," she mumbled, taking it and mindlessly scanning through it. She wasn't entirely sure what she was even looking at.

"Is everything alright?" Chantelle asked.

"Fine," Serena snapped.

"You just seem a little distant," Chantelle tried again.

"I'm fine."

"Is Mr Hanssen okay?"

Serena turned to face the younger woman, raising an eyebrow.

Chantelle had worked with her long enough to know that that meant she wanted an explanation. "He looked a bit nervous when I told him you were in your office. I've never seen him look nervous before. He always seems like he's in complete control of everything."

Serena stared back at her. The man was more nervous to bring her cookies than he was to deal with the members of the board. "You know what, Chantelle? I just remembered I need to be in that meeting with the board. Can you get Michael to take over Mr Anderson's care?"

"Of course," Chantelle smiled brightly.

Serena gave her a polite smile and then headed down the corridor to the conference room. She could hear Cunningham's raised voice. "You clearly have no control of your own wards," he was saying. "That patient had been bumped twice already which means that the cost of her care is increased while we wait for a general consultant to find the time to perform her operation. How incompetent of you."

Serena took a deep breath before stepping into the room. "You're entirely right, Mr Cunningham," she said. "How incompetent of Mr Hanssen for being here instead of on the ward where he's needed. This morning he saved a young boy's life, but still, how dare he not be running the hospital to your own inexperienced and uninformed taste."

The whole room fell silent and Serena suddenly felt very out of place.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you so, so, so much for all the reviews etc. I really appreciate it. Sorry for all the typos on the last chapter – my laptop seems to have an issue with spell check to my great dismay! X**

Terence Cunningham waited until the rest of the board members had vacated the room before he slammed the door shut, spinning around on his heel to face Serena and Hanssen - both of whom were silently seated at the conference table. "Well, that went well, don't you think?" He snapped.

"Had you notified me of an inspection, I would have ensured it ran smoothly," Hanssen spoke up. "However, seeing as you are dead set on trying to undermine my leadership, I'm not surprised things did not end as well as you wanted."

"You think I'm talking about the _patients_?" Cunningham raised his voice.

Hanssen watched him closely, his eyes not giving the faintest sign of emotion.

"You made me look like a callous idiot," he looked at Serena.

"Nothing she did could have caused that," Hanssen suddenly said. "You managed to do that all on your own."

Cunningham turned his fiery gaze back to Hanssen. He was clearly furious. "Why am not surprised?"

"Not surprised about what?" Hanssen asked curiously.

"How long did it take before she invited you into her bed?"

Serena drew in a sharp breath, feeling as though she'd been punched in the stomach.

"Mr Cunningham," Hanssen warned. "This is not the time nor the place."

"Is that what all those early morning briefings in your office have been for?" He hissed. "An invigorating quickie before work? Or has she just been wetting your . . ." he gave Hanssen a venomous glance down at his groin. "Appetite?" He spat. "Giving you a little taster of what's to come? Something to look forward to?"

"That's _enough_," Hanssen said sternly, laying both his hands flat on the table.

"Terence, please," Serena tried to calm the situation down.

"Tell me, Serena," Terence turned his attention to her. "How do you feel when you're lying underneath him, listening to him moan? Does it make you feel like a _slut_?"

Serena wasn't sure who had moved first; it had all happened far too quickly. Hanssen seemed to have shoved Cunningham up against the wall. Cunningham managed to get a swing in and Hanssen's head snapped to the side and he stumbled backwards, giving Cunningham time to lunge at him. They both tumbled backwards and crashed into the conference table.

Serena had managed to get up just before the table slammed against the wall. She stood back for a fraction of a second, trying to imagine what the best line of action would be; either she could call for help or try to break them up herself. The latter could be painful, but if someone else were to find the Chairman of the board of trustees and the Director of Surgery in a wrestling match, there could be serious repercussions. Her decision had been made and she rushed over to attempt to pull the two men apart. Reaching down to pull Cunningham off of Hanssen she felt his elbow slam into the side of her head, making an odd cracking sound as it did and she tumbled forward, whacking her forehead into the edge of the table . She felt as though she was seeing stars, but she didn't release her grip on Cunningham's arm until she felt him move away. The room had fallen ominously silent.

"Serena," Terence called, his face etched with concern as he got to his feet, his breathing heavy.

"This is ridiculous," she whispered, resting her hand against the floor to combat the feeling of dizziness.

Hanssen moved towards her. "Help me," he ordered Cunningham who very quickly moved to assist him in lifting Serena off of the floor and into a nearby desk chair.

Serena couldn't understand why they were so concerned until she felt a familiar warm feeling running down the side of her face.

"Am I bleeding?" She asked, more out of confusion than actually wanting to know.

Hanssen held a white handkerchief against her head. She recognized it as the same one he had used when she had cut her hand on the glass of a photo frame. She could still remember washing and ironing it so that she could place it neatly on his desk the next day.

"I'm so sorry, Serena," Cunningham stood one side, watching her.

"This was completely unnecessary," Serena snapped. "And I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Hanssen moved the handkerchief away to see how badly damaged she was. "This will need stitches. Wait here," he got up, giving Cunningham a warning look as he left the room.

"I'm so sorry," Cunningham moved towards her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I would never hurt you."

"And yet, you hit me in the head," Serena heard herself say.

"I don't know what got into me. The thought of you and _him_ together," he breathed out. "I just saw red."

"Mr Hanssen is my colleague," Serena said angrily. "Nothing more."

"It was just the way you came up for him," he pulled a chair up beside her. "You were so . . . passionate. I can't stand the thought of you using that same passion on someone who is incapable of returning it. He'll destroy you."

"I already explained to you that nothing is going on between us," she grimaced as her head started throbbing.

"I know that we have a . . . _casual_ . . . relationship, Serena," Cunningham said softly. "But I _want_ more. I care for you."

"You have a strange way of showing it."

"This was an accident," he motioned towards her face.

"_This_," she pointed out. "Is exactly why anything more than _casual_ won't work."

Cunningham looked hurt by her comment, but he nodded. "I understand."

"You should leave," she said. "The last thing we need is to explain how we all got into a brawl."

Cunningham gave her a somber smile before getting up to leave. "I'll call you tonight. I would invite you over, but my daughter . . ."

"It's fine," Serena snapped. "Just go."

Hanssen walked into the room just as Cunningham was leaving. They exchanged looks and Hanssen quickly moved to complete stitching Serena's head up.

"Any idea on how we're going to explain this?" Serena asked with an amused look on her face as she noticed the red swelling on the side of Hanssen's face.

"Freak accident," Hanssen answered, dabbing the gash on her forehead.

"Shall we say I tripped and fell? You tried to catch me and fell? I'm sure no one will question it," she said sarcastically.

Hanssen was clearly not amused. He had become silent and was focusing on her injuries instead of on her.

"You probably shouldn't have jumped him," Serena finally said after a few minutes of silence. "I've had people call me far worse than what he said."

Hanssen didn't say anything.

"Thank you for coming up for me," she tried again, to no avail. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he said in his usual formal tone. "You clearly live your life the way you see fit."

Serena nodded slowly. It dawned on her that he was more angry with her than he was with Cunningham. "This thing with Terence," she tried to explain, taking in a deep breath. "It was a mistake and I should have ended it before, but I -"

"You don't have to explain it to me," he cut her off.

"I wish I could, but I can't," she watched him as he prepared a small bandage to place over her forehead. "I suppose I just enjoyed the company."

"I would suggest taking some pain killers as soon as you leave here."

Serena sighed in frustration. He had shut himself off and it felt as though no amount of trying from her side was going to get him to open up again.

"I have a lot of work to do in my office, so I won't be seeing many people. Perhaps you could lie to the rest of the staff and tell them you tripped on the stairs. You seem to be rather good at it," he said as he left her behind.

She stared at the closed door, feeling angry and disappointed in herself. She had never seen Hanssen physically lose his temper before. She would imagine someone would have to push him to incredible limits to become aggressive, and yet, he had fought for _her_.

She sighed heavily.

Serena had been lucky enough to finish earlier than usual after receiving a lot of sympathy looks from not only the staff, but the patients as well. She realized she must have looked like the victim of an assault. There was a bandage over her forehead and a lump the size of a baseball bat on the side of her head. She had decided to call it a day after one of her patients had been told that she was going to be his doctor and had commented loudly: '_She's _a doctor? Looks more like a patient if you ask me.'

She dropped her handbag and coat on the floor of the entrance hall and headed straight up the stairs to get changed into a pair of baggy nightclothes. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and sighed heavily as she removed the bandage, giving her wound some air. Hanssen had done an impeccable job on the stitches. She stared back at her reflection for a while longer, wondering how she had become entwined in this web of deceit.

The sound of the doorbell brought her mind back to the present and she huffed as she pulled on her light pink dressing gown and made her way back down the stairs.

"If this is a door to door salesman, I'm really not in the mood," she called as she started unlocking the door. "I've had a very bad day and . . ." she paused as she swung the door open. "Mr Hanssen," she whispered.

Hanssen seemed almost surprised to see her.

"Come in," she stepped back to allow him space.

Hanssen very hesitantly stepped into her entrance hall glancing around as he did.

"Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? A glass of shiraz?"

"I won't be staying long," he said. "I just came to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine," she smiled warmly. "The head's a bit sore, but I'm fine."

Hanssen observed her for a moment before nodding. "I also wanted to say that I accept your apology."

"Well, thank you for that. Again, I apologize for any inconvenience," she said in a formal manner, realizing that he was still not opening up to her.

Hanssen nodded again.

"Is that all?" She heard herself asking.

Hanssen was about to turn and leave when he spun back towards her. "I was curious to know why you decided to physically involve yourself in the altercation between Mr Cunningham and myself."

Serena stared back at him. She was slightly confused. Surely he was more interested in why she had been sleeping with Cunningham or how she had used him to get to the top? Why was he asking her _this_?

"Was it because you were concerned for Mr Cunningham or because you felt it was the right thing to do?" He asked with a curiously hopeful look in his eyes.

"I was concerned," Serena answered, watching as Hanssen's face became blank. He turned to leave again and was already out of the door when she spoke. "But I wasn't concerned for _him_."

Hanssen froze in his steps, not bothering to turn back. "Who then?"

"I was concerned for _you_," she said, watching as his back straightened up.

"Thank you for your honesty," he said before heading to his car and driving away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the long wait for an update to this. Hopefully it will be worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who keeps reviewing and/or reading. This is probably the final chapter and the bit at the end about the fox and the scorpion relates to what Hanssen said in the first chapter.x**

Hanssen had been incredibly quiet after the incident with Cunningham. Any communication they had was mainly done through his personal assistant and staff meetings were brief and to the point. He was clearly trying to avoid Serena altogether and she was finding it difficult to cope with.

Cunningham had sent her a bouquet of red roses the day she had returned to work with a note, once again apologizing for his overreaction and begging for her to meet him for dinner in order for him to make it up to her. She felt she owed him an explanation. He had never been anything but kind to her before and he seemed to have genuinely become quite fond of her.

She tossed her pen across her desk, rolling her eyes as it slid over the folders and landed on the floor. She sighed as she shoved her chair aside and climbed onto the floor to retrieve it.

She heard the door to her office open and she grunted in annoyance. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" she called over her shoulder.

"Is this a bad time?" Hanssen's voice was unexpected and Serena jumped in surprise, thumping her head against the edge of the desk.

"Ow!" She growled, rubbing the small bump that was forming.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Hanssen observed her with a grimace.

"Oh, it's fine," she got to her feet. "With the number of bumps I've had to the head lately, what's one more, right?" She said sarcastically.

"I'll give you some space," Hanssen turned to leave.

"No, wait," she called, watching as he slowly turned around. "I'm sorry, I thought you were Michael. I was expecting him to come see me about his annual leave."

"I see," Hanssen nodded.

"Did you need me for something?"

"I wanted to inform you that we've been invited to a fund raising dinner for the hospital. The dinner should result in a high number of generous donations for Holby and I felt it necessary for us both to attend."

Serena stared back at him. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Well, if you wish to lose potential donors to St James, then you're certainly welcome to stay at home, curled up with the latest staff management report," Hanssen said drily.

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow night."

"And they've only just mentioned it to you?" Serena raised an eyebrow.

"No, I've known about it for several weeks."

"Then why are you only telling me about it now?"

"Oh I was certain the news would reach you sooner or later," Hanssen said cryptically, watching her closely.

"I haven't seen Terence since his little _outburst_," she suddenly said. She wasn't sure if Hanssen seemed relieved by her admission or surprised. The flicker of emotion was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

"I will pick you up tomorrow evening at six thirty."

"That's it? That's all?" Serena wasn't entirely sure what she expected of Hanssen. He was a private man at the best of times. Did she expect him to smile happily at her revelation? She had, after all, broken his trust once again.

"Is there any more information you need?" Hanssen observed her for a fraction of a second before turning to leave.

"I don't know how many times you want me to apologize," she mumbled, turning her attention to her laptop as she had seen him do so many times. "I'm happy to do it again."

Hanssen paused in the doorway. "There's nothing to forgive. You did nothing I wasn't already aware that you were capable of doing," he said before stepping into the corridor.

His words stung her and she took a deep breath, as if filling her lungs with air would lessen the pain.

* * *

Serena had been sulking for most of the day after her very brief interaction with Hanssen and she was hardly in the mood for a pretentious dinner with a room full of people she had to be extra nice to in order to get her hands on their cash. She had just finished pulling on her black lacey shawl when she saw Hanssen's car pull up into her driveway. She wasn't at all surprised that he was fifteen minutes early. She had expected it and had therefore rushed back from the hospital for a very quick shower, knowing she had very little time to get ready.

She stepped out into the cold air and pulled her shawl tight, hoping it would be warmer at the dinner. Hanssen looked much like a tall version of James Bond in his tuxedo. Serena found the thought quite amusing for some reason and she tried to suppress a chuckle.

Hanssen was looking at the front of his car and only turned around when he heard her heels clicking against the concrete floor. His eyes ran over her for a split second and Serena was quite pleased when his cheeks seemed to flush slightly.

"Looking very James Bond, Mr Hanssen," she smiled as she finally joined him.

"Hopefully Mr Bond's good fortune will be in our favour tonight then," he said, turning to look at his car again.

Serena raised an eyebrow, waiting for a compliment. When she realized she wasn't going to get one she sighed heavily. "You too look lovely, Serena," she said sarcastically. "What a magnificent dress. Really brings out your _eyes_."

Hanssen turned back to her, an amused look on his face. "Certainly the great Serena Campbell doesn't require an admiring comment to build up her confidence."

"I suppose not," Serena chuckled.

Hanssen paused for a moment before very quietly adding to his sentence. "You look lovely."

His words took Serena by surprise and she subconsciously began playing with her necklace. "Thank you," she whispered. "What's so interesting about your car tonight?" She changed the subject, suddenly feeling a bit shy, moving around him to see what he had been looking at.

"It might just be my imagination, but I feel the steering is a bit off."

"You know, we could always take my car," Serena suggested.

"Ms Campbell," Hanssen gave her an amused look. "I would prefer to get to this dinner in one piece, preferably with my head still attached to my body and not strewn across the motorway."

Serena glared at him. "Next time you break down, I'll just leave you there to rot."

"Probably better than having to rot after being torn into a million pieces in a collision."

"Well, thank you for that graphic image," Serena grimaced.

Hanssen's lips twitched upwards as he opened the passenger door for her to get in.

Serena was pleased by their light hearted banter as Hanssen carefully drove them to the hotel where the dinner was being held. He had seemed to relax. It was possible he realized that there was no point in ignoring her and they needed to put on a united front in order to get more donations, but she felt herself wanting to believe that he had forgiven her. She enjoyed his company very much, even if he could be difficult sometimes.

Serena waited for Hanssen to park the car further down the street. Most of the parking had already been taken and an usher was having to show the attendees alternative areas to park.

"You look incredible," Terence Cunningham whispered.

Serena spun around to face him. She gave him a friendly smile. "Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself," she glanced down at the light grey cravat he was wearing. It suited him.

"How have you been?" He took a step towards her.

"Busy," she answered, trying to steer the conversation towards work. "The hospital's been keeping everyone busy. But that's what we like."

"Of course," Terence nodded, smiling warmly at her. "I had hoped you would reply to my emails."

Serena started to fidget with her necklace, feeling uneasy. "I really have been busy," she said. "It's not that I don't want to talk to you, Terence. I think we owe it to each other to sit down and talk things through."

"Why doesn't that sound too promising?" Terence looked down, gently kicking the floor with his polished shoe.

"We had a good run," Serena smiled at him. "I'm very fond of you . . . as a _friend_," she tried to say the word as kindly as possible.

Terence stared at her. "We were good together."

Serena nodded slowly. "We _were_."

Terence gave her a sad smile, finally understanding. "I don't suppose there's much of a point in me telling you that my door will always be open."

"It's a lovely thought," Serena gently touched his arm. "But I think we both know that that boat has sailed."

Terence nodded, glancing up as Hanssen cautiously approached them. "Well, we'll always have Paris," he smiled, heading indoors.

Serena turned to Hanssen, noting the unimpressed look on his face. "Did you park alright?"

"Yes," he answered, still looking at her for an explanation.

"Shall we head inside?"

Hanssen nodded, watching as she walked in front of him, pausing every now and again to greet someone she knew. They spent the first hour mingling with acquaintances and being introduced to potential donors. Serena finally reached their table and waited for Hanssen to join her before taking a seat. The food had been served. "Lovely hotel," she said.

Hanssen nodded, glancing around the room. He was still sulking.

Serena sipped her wine and observed him for a moment. She wasn't sure if she was pleased he was affected by her relationship with Terence or annoyed by his childishness. "Are you planning on ignoring me for the rest of the evening?"

"I don't know what you mean," he answered briskly.

Serena sighed. She'd had enough of this. There were only so many times that she could apologize. Each time they took a step forward in their relationship, they would end up taking six steps back. She pulled her napkin off of her lap and gently placed it down beside the plate of food that she had barely touched as she pushed her chair back.

Hanssen looked at her, surprised by her sudden reaction.

"I need some air," she mumbled as she moved away from the table and through the crowded hall. The cold air was like a shock to her system and for a moment, she considered heading back inside, but she couldn't face the feeling of suffocation. She carefully descended the stairs, smiling at the doorman as she headed down the pavement and leaned against the end of the building.

She was angry with herself for letting her emotions get the best of her. Her career had always been incredibly important to her and as a single mother, she had fought as hard as she could to keep a well paying job. She knew she could come across as being uncaring and cold at times when it came to her career, but she had learnt to put that wall up. Throughout the years, she had been treated as the little lady doctor who couldn't possibly do a man's job and she had clawed her way to the top to prove herself to everyone who thought she wasn't capable.

"Ms Campbell," Hanssen spoke from beside her.

"I don't know what you want from me," she heard herself say. "I try my best to do what's right for the hospital. I try my best to do what's right for the staff. I'm pretty sure I haven't disappointed you with my work."

"No, you haven't."

"My life is about my career," she said, taking a deep breath. "So why do I feel like the most important thing right now is to make _you_ happy?"

Hanssen stared back at her, unsure of how to respond.

"I made a mistake. I _make_ mistakes. We all do. I've apologized. I've ended things with Terence . . . and for what? I don't even know what you _want_."

"You ended it with Mr Cunningham?"

Serena looked up at him. "I don't know what I'm doing here," she sighed.

"We're trying to procure funds for the hospital," Hanssen answered simply.

Serena chuckled bitterly, covering her face with her hands. She shook her head, annoyed at her little meltdown. "I need to go home."

"I will drive you home."

"No," she held up her hands. "No. I think I should just be alone."

"This isn't a good neighbourhood," Hanssen glanced around them. "Let me drive you home."

"What for?" She looked up at him. "So that you can ignore me for the trip back?"

"I would feel more contented to know that you got home safely."

"_Why_?" She asked, watching him closely, waiting for a reply.

He seemed to hesitate with his answer. "I . . . The _hospital_ needs you."

"Really?" Serena huffed sarcastically and started walking down the pavement. She couldn't believe that she had imagined the man had a heart. He was clearly incapable of anything remotely emotional.

"Ms Campbell," Hanssen called after her.

She kept walking, ignoring the man who was asking her for spare change. She felt confused and annoyed with herself. A hand on her shoulder made her jump and she spun around, expecting to see the homeless man standing behind her. Instead it was Hanssen.

"I don't want you walking here by yourself at the dead of night," he said gently. "If anything were to happen to you I would never forgive myself."

"Oh, we wouldn't want _you_ to feel guilty over anything," Serena snapped. "I might take a page out of your book and never let you forget about it."

"I apologize if I have made you feel that way."

Serena felt like slapping him. "Because obviously you've never made a mistake or hurt someone."

"I have, actually," Hanssen's eyes darkened. "I have made many mistakes and I have hurt a few good people along the way."

Serena wasn't sure what to say to him. She was curious, but too upset to ask him about it.

"I can only hope that they have been able to forgive me. And therefore I truly am sorry if you feel I have been holding a grudge."

Serena was speechless. He was actually apologizing to her.

"Now please," Hanssen held his arm out for Serena. "Allow me to escort you home."

Serena took his arm without a word and started heading back down the street with him. They walked in silence until they reached his car. Hanssen opened the door for Serena.

"Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy," Serena suddenly said.

Hanssen turned to look at her. "Care to explain?"

"All my wounds are self inflicted."

"I believe that's true of most people in the world," he said gently.

"Sometimes I don't even realize I'm doing it," she smiled sheepishly.

Hanssen took a step closer to her. "Everyone makes mistakes. It's how you deal with the consequences that matters."

"I'm the scorpion," Serena whispered. "What if you were right? What if it's in my nature to destroy the people around me?"

"A fox is a cunning thing. He knows when to duck and when to dive," Hanssen smiled. "And some scorpions aren't as poisonous as they are painful. The fox will always be its lifeline."

"Are you the fox?" Serena smiled as she took a tentative step to close the distance between them.

"Indeed. I am the fox," Hanssen answered as he pulled her in and pressed his lips to hers.


End file.
